To TJ or not to TJ
by Ansy Pansy aka Panz
Summary: Sandy and Kirsten in college. There’s a TJ trip but they’ve just broken up and don’t feel like going, what happens if their friends persuade them… Finished chapter 8 posted
1. Chapter 1

To TJ or not to TJ

**Summary: **Sandy and Kirsten in college. There's a TJ trip but they've just broken up and don't feel like going, what happens if their friends persuade them…

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the OC I'd have a yacht with a swimming pool on by now.

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Sunday 9th July – Em texts Panz with the idea of a TJ Kandy fic.

Saturday 15th July – Panz, having slaved away in the boiling sun of Mallorca for a week, finishes the fic.

With thanks to a) my muse (who is there for both fic ideas and moral support at 4/5/6 in the morning) and b) all my lovely, patient readers. Enjoy!

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Chapter One

'But you've got to come,' you hear your best friend whine, 'you've just got to!'

'Why?'

'Because you just do.'

'We've had this trip planned for ages,' points out another housemate.

'We're celebrating end of exams!' someone else chips in.

'And graduation.'

'And end of school.'

'I just don't really feel like celebrating right now,' you say. It's alright for them; they haven't just faced the most ill-timed break-up in college dating history. Finals had started two weeks ago and halfway through you and Sandy, following your fifth major row in three days, had had a screaming match and finally called it quits. You weren't quite sure what had happened, but the tempestuously passionate of the last six months was officially over. It had been past midnight by the time you slammed the door of Sandy's apartment, plans for a night of last minute 'revision; in tatters. Yet another casualty amidst the carnage.

You didn't cry; you calmly walked home and went to bed. The next morning you burst into tears in the middle of your psychology final. After being escorted out of the exam hall and wasting far too much time, you decided something. You were not going to let Sanford fucking Cohen (an adjective more often used in context with your previous ex) ruin all you had worked for over the past four years. You finished the paper; in fact, you probably aced it, and incited the same righteous anger in order to cope with the rest of your finals. That weekend you drank more than you had for most of the term, cried yourself into exhaustion and passed out, surprised you hadn't cried tears of neat vodka.

Suffice to say, celebrating isn't high on the agenda right now. True you've finished college, but that means you actually have to figure out your life and you didn't expect to be doing this without Sandy. Without him the threat of Newport is growing, without him you could so easily be sucked back into that bubble. And no, you certainly don't feel like joining a group of mutual friends on a celebratory TJ trip.

'I've done TJ before,' you tell them.

'Not when you were legal,' your friend, Chelsea, points out.

'So?'

'Kirsten, you can't just not go because Sandy is.'

'That has nothing to do with it.'

'Uhu.'

'I don't care what he's doing.'

'Well then, prove it.'

And that's how you end up going to Mexico.

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'I thought you said she wasn't coming,' you moan at the sight of your ex-girlfriend. She's looking gorgeous as always; short skirt, sunglasses propped up on her head and bright blonde hair in a high pony tail. Your friends look awkward for a moment.

'Well uh…she wasn't planning on going.'

'That was the only way you managed to persuade me to come.'

'Ye-ah…but come on Sandman, you can't blow the whole trip off because of a girl.'

'It's not just a girl.'

'We know, we know,' they chorus, 'it's Kirsten.'

'And I don't want to ruin her trip.'

'So you'll let her ruin yours.'

'I…'

'Tough Cohen, you're coming with us,' your best mate Paul declares. 'We're not gonna be together to celebrate your birthday later in the summer so we should do it now.'

'Great reason to celebrate.'

'Why not? Twenty three isn't old.'

'I like being twenty two.'

'Another Kirsten reference I'm guessing.'

You don't answer and your friends roll their eyes.

'Look, you don't even have to see her.'

'Yeah, because that's gonna work,' you mutter, eyes drawn to the girl leaning quietly against one of the cars whilst her friends laugh and joke around her. She looks as miserable as you feel you realise and wonder again why you let yourselves do this. Things had been great…no, you were being stupid. There was no way the pair of you could have carried on the way you were. It was too damn hard.

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Ten minutes later everyone is arguing about who is riding with who. You don't really care as long as you're not in the same car as Sandy. That would be too close for comfort. He keeps glancing at you from the safe distance of the opposite side of the circle. You wonder if he's going to apologise or something. You're afraid that if he does you'll either cry or slap him. You don't know which would be worse.

Several couples are insisting on driving down together and you know this is a bad, bad idea. All the loners will be left to either suffer a car load of lovesick couples or band together with the other unattached and that means Sandy.

---

'How about splitting guys/girls?' Kirsten suggests and you sigh with relief. You don't want to be faced with either Kirsten or people making out for hours at a time. A guys' trip could be just the thing right now.

'Good idea,' someone agrees, 'but there's a problem. We have three cars but, as far as I know, no shims amongst us.'

The crows of assembled friends laugh and there are several jokes and jostling as unfortunate people are pushed forward.

'OK how about girls, guys and the couples that no one else wants to share with because they're way too cheesy and/or horny?'

There is a resounding cheer at Chelsea's suggestion and several people blush or break the current lip-lock with their partner. After a quick debate, three couples, all holding hands, are relegated to one of the vehicles and the girls head to the other. You follow the guts to the third, reflecting how, until last week, you and Kirsten would have been in the first category.

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Good start? Let me know in a review! And don't worry, I'm posting up both MIBTW and CE at the same time!

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	2. Chapter 2

To TJ or not to TJ

**Summary: **Sandy and Kirsten in college. There's a TJ trip but they've just broken up and don't feel like going, what happens if their friends persuade them…

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the OC I'd have a yacht with a swimming pool on by now.

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I've got 60 minutes of internet access in Wales YAY! My debit card is masquerading as a credit card lol! So I thought I'd do some crazy posting up of stuff!

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Chapter Two

A couple of hours in and the journey is already getting wearing. You've sung along to the radio, fretted that you've forgotten several essential items and chattered aimlessly about college gossip, exams and the future. Now you're on a straight open road through the desert. It's empty, stretching away into the distance, the horizon shimmering. Everyone is too hot and you're driving slightly too fast with all the windows down in the hope of catching a breeze. You're driving because you don't plan on being sober enough to do it on the way back.

'I feel a DMC coming on,' your best friend declares from the front seat beside you. She ignores the pleading eyes you fix on her; a post-break-up analysis is the last thing you want right now, and launches straight in. 'So, any interesting boy-talk?'

'I think you might,' someone replies. 'I heard that you and Paul were sleeping together.'

You watch out the corner of your eye as your friend turns red. 'But that's nothing new,' you say, puzzled by her blushes.

'Ah,' the voice from the back seat explains, 'but this is serious, as in dating, not just fuckbuddying.'

'Really?' It's hard to keep your eyes on the road at such a revelation.

'Aw come on guys,' she moans, 'you knew I had to get tired of playing the field one day.'

'How come you never told me?' you ask and your friend looks uncomfortable.

'Well…uh, it's a pretty recent development and I felt…I don't know…you were busy dealing with all your stuff and, it's Sandy's friend. With you not being around their place it just…hasn't come up.'

'Just because we're not together any more doesn't mean you can't tell me that kind of thing even if it is Sandy's best mate.'

'I'm sorry.'

'It's not like you're dating Sandy…are any of you?' you ask, glancing into the backseat. The girls roll their eyes and offer a range of negative responses from offended or disgusted to slightly surprised and wistful.

'Would it matter?' your friend asks pointedly and you're forced to hurriedly backtrack.

'Uh…no, I just…I'd want to know and…he has just come out of a relationship and…'

'And you'd be jealous.'

'No!'

'What actually happened with you two?' someone asks the question you've been dreading.

'Yeah, one minute you're all over each other, the next you're refusing to come on this trip because he is.'

'That wasn't the reason.'

'Uhu. You're not giving us that bullshit Kirsten, we're your friends. Just tell us.'

'I don't know.'

'You don't know?'

'It just all happened so fast.'

'But why all of a sudden?'

You sigh. 'It wasn't that sudden. We just kept fighting…all the time.'

'You two are always fighting though. You do it instead of foreplay.'

'This was different.'

'Different how? Less make-up sex?'

'Try none. All the little things escalated and by last week it was too late.'

'You two were so perfect together. That can't just disappear.'

'Perfectly incompatible you mean. Maybe reality just caught up with us.'

'What made that fight so decisive? Why then?'

'It was bigger than usual, bitter. We were both stressed with exams…tired…basically I was pressing him about the holidays. About what happens now school is over for me.'

There was a chorus of understanding oh's.

'The long-term question huh, and he balked at it?'

'Pretty much.'

'Well Sandy Cohen has been pretty commitment-shy since the whole debacle with his previous ex.

'I know. It wasn't as if I was asking for a ring or anything crazy like that.'

'Guys are just paranoid.'

'All I wanted to know was if it meant anything more than the last six months. If I was meant to just forget him after graduation. He obviously thinks so.'

'Aw honey, maybe he just got scared.'

You shake your head. 'I barely even broached the subject and look what happened.'

'Sounds like you two need to talk.'

'No. We're done talking.'

'But…'

'No buts. He doesn't listen anyway.'

'So…um, what are you gonna do now? For the summer I mean.'

'I'm not sure. It wasn't just Berkeley I didn't want to leave but now…'

'You don't think he wants you to stay?'

'That's what it feels like. Why did I think I meant something to him? Why did I think he'd want me to stay and try to keep our flagging relationship alive any longer?'

'Because you wanted to.'

'Yeah and he didn't.'

'You don't know that.'

'It seems that way to me. Maybe I should just go home. Right now even Newport might be less depressing.'

'You can't let what he thinks shape your life,' someone points out.

'Why not? I was going to before wasn't I? If he'd said stay I would have done.'

'So stay anyway.'

'I don't know if I want to anymore.'

'Oh Kirsten.'

'I know, I'm sorry. That's just the way I feel.'

'Do you love him?' your best friend asks.

'What?' The question shakes you so much you jolt in your seat, the wheel twisting sharply. With our mind elsewhere you fail to react to the sharp bend up ahead and the skewed position of the car sends it straight off the road. The freeway is only a little built up yet things are rather hairy for several seconds as you skid sideways down the rocky slope, fighting to regain control.

It's all over as fast as it began; a muffled crash beneath the car and an ominous scraping and twisting noise mingling with screams before the car stops in the brush a little way from the road. There is silence, broken only by a strange metallic groan and the car sinks several inches.

'I think the answer is yes, she does love him.'

You head nervous laughter being expelled in relief as you drop your head onto the steering wheel and start to cry.

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Are you enjoying this?

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	3. Chapter 3

To TJ or not to TJ

**Summary: **Sandy and Kirsten in college. There's a TJ trip but they've just broken up and don't feel like going, what happens if their friends persuade them…

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the OC I'd have a yacht with a swimming pool on by now.

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How absolutely CRAZY generous am I? THREE chapters at once. You better leave reviews for at least one of them or I will be ANGRY!

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Chapter Three

'So how's the Sandman?' Paul asks jovially 'You've been unnaturally quiet lately.'

You shrug.

'I rest my case. Methinks this strange silence may be directly attributable to the departure of a certain blonde.'

'Paul, Shut up.'

'Oh, it speaks. Did you guts hear that?' he turns to the guys in the back and gesticulates wildly at Sandy. They laugh.

'What's made you so chirpy?' you growl at your friend.

'I my friend, unlike you, am getting some.'

'I know _that_. I've seen her sneak out your room every morning for the past week. I've made her coffee when you're too lazy to get up.'

'Aha, but this is different.'

'Different how?'

'We're sleeping together.'

'But that's nothing new.'

'It is if we're dating as well.'

'Dating? But…wh… Since when? How come?'

'Since we decided to.'

'Oh…well, you have liked her for ages I guess.'

'You're not jealous are you?'

'Me? No! Why would I be?'

'Because we never seem able to have girlfriends at the same time.'

'That's strangely true but I'm fine.'

'Biggest four letter lie in the world,' someone says and you glare out the window. 'I'm doing ok,' you amend.

'Hmm. Well I guess you're doing better than Kirsten,' one of your friends from the year below observes.

'Why?' you ask a fraction too quickly.

'Uh, well…' they mumbled, watching all the eyes in the car turn to focus on you.

'She sort of…broke down in the middle of the psychology exam, had to be taken outside.'

'W-what day?'

'Wednesday.'

'Shit,' you mutter under your breath, running an agitated hand through your unruly hair.

Wednesday. The day after that horrible fight. The night she'd slammed the door of your apartment almost as hard as you did ten minutes later when you went out to find solace at the beach. The day your favourite law professor offered to talk. How the hell could you tell the father of your long-lost once fiancée that the reason you're so distracted is another girl?

'She's doing better now I think,' they continue, trying to offer some comfort in the wake of your aghast facial expression.

'If you can count being constantly pissed as being ok,' someone else interjects.

You sigh. Kirsten is a little too partial to alcohol. You hate to think you made her turn to it even more. Suddenly Paul gives an exclamation and you look up. In the distance up ahead you can see what appears to be the girls' car very definitely off the road and standing at an uncomfortable angle; the front wheels considerably lower than the back. Your heart jumps straight into your mouth, forcing you to recognise how much Kirsten still means to you. The girls had passed you a couple of hours ago, singing raucously. Kirsten was driving, fast. Then again, she always did. Drove fast, drank fast and made you fall for her so damn fast you were still spinning six months and one hell of a break-up later.

The car full of couples had dawdled at the start, unable to decide who should stop kissing first and actually drive so it had to be the girls up in front. Having sped up at the sight of the stranded car, Paul slowed again to park hastily on the side of the road. The boys piled out and hurried over the hot tarmac and rusty dirt towards the crowd of girls.

'Is everyone okay?' was asked as a breathless shout from a hundred paces and on hearing the positive reply, you all slow from a sprint to a jog. Friends great each other with relief and couples join in cinematic embraces. You stand at the fringes of this activity, scanning the faces for the one you want to see most. It's missing.

Swallowing you listen to your shallow breathing in the hope of calming yourself as you search properly. What if everyone wasn't okay? People just say that when no one is obviously injured…or dead. Paul prevents your mind running away with itself by clapping a hand on your shoulder. 'Relax Sandman, she's fine.'

'I wasn't…' you begin but realise it's pointless as your best mate just gives you a look which says he knows you're lying.

'Kirsten was driving so she's pretty shaken up. She's with my girlfriend,' he pronounces the new title a little proudly. You follow Paul round the empty vehicle. Sure enough, Kirsten is crouched on the ground beside one of the tyres, her friend vainly proffering water and being stoically ignored. Paul approaches him and the girl smiles, relief edging into her eyes amidst the worry. Kirsten has her head between her knees as though she might be sick, hiccoughing sobs issuing intermittently from the huddled form. You wish you could off some kind of comfort. Hate knowing that you can't.

'Hey,' Paul says, squatting down in front of your ex and tilting her face towards him. 'Hey! Don't cry; no one's hurt.'

Kirsten continues to cry and you realise from your position, skulking by the wing mirror, that she's shaking. 'She's in shock,' you mumble, watching her head jolt up at the sound of your voice. 'Try and make her drink that water.'

She doesn't look at you but complies when she's offered the bottle, teeth chattering against the neck.

'You alright?' Paul asks gently.

'I almost killed us all,' she moans.

'No you didn't,' you insist, even before you realise you're speaking.

'I drove off the road, it would have been a terrible accident.'

'But it wasn't.'

'It almost was and now the car is screwed.'

She is fast becoming hysterical and it's natural to try and calm her down.

'Shh, it's okay.'

'No it's not okay,' she spits, voice unnaturally hard. 'It's so fucking far from being okay…just…go away. Go away!'

Her friend smiles sadly at you. 'Sorry Sandy, but right now isn't the best time for all this. We'll talk later okay?'

You nod and back reluctantly away leaving Kirsten with both your best friend and hers.

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How's it going?

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	4. Chapter 4

To TJ or not to TJ

**Summary: **Sandy and Kirsten in college. There's a TJ trip but they've just broken up and don't feel like going, what happens if their friends persuade them…

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the OC I'd have a yacht with a swimming pool on by now.

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So…I'm currently in the MOD offices in Bristol very bored! Leave me a review and brighten up my day!

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Chapter Four

After the initial hullabaloo, someone doing an engineering major was sent under the car to assess the damage. He crawled out with the verdict of a broken axle and the need for a mechanic. There was a hasty confab beneath the blistering sun. It's suggested that two of your stay with the car and two itch a lift with the guys to the nearest garage. Chelsea points out that one of them should be her as it's her car. Sandy mumbled that maybe you should stay where you are for a while because of the shock. You glare but don't bother to disagree. Truth be told, you do feel rather shaky.

Paul offers his services as a 'big scary black man for protection' and Sandy follows suit, minus the big, scary and black part. It's the first joke he's cracked for a week and Paul, surprised and relieved, refrains from punching him on the arm. The three of them confer in whispers while your girlfriends transfer their bags.

'I'm thinking a guy with each of you,' Paul says. 'Just in case.'

'Paranoid much?' you hear his girlfriend tease.

'Oy! Do you want me to come with me or not?'

'You can't,' Sandy points out and your feel a rush of relief.

'Sandy, you can't avoid her forever.'

'I'm not. If you two go together we'll be here all night. You'll get 'distracted'.'

The pair laugh but agree and soon you and Paul are watching as your friend and your ex pile into the cramped station wagon and head off waving.

'Okay?' Paul asks, sitting down in the dusty shade beside you. You exhale loudly, a little exasperated. 'You don't have to ask me every three minutes. I'm fine.'

'You'll still be in shock.'

'I'll live.'

'Just relax okay.'

'I. Am.'

'More water?'

'No!…Thank you.'

'You want my shirt?'

'What?'

'You might be cold.'

'Paul, it's about a hundred degrees.'

'Sandy said you were in shock. I should keep you warm, calm and full of fluids.'

'Sandy talks shit.'

'One of the reasons you love him I suppose.'

'I don't.'

'Kirsten.' Paul's tone is soft but the raised eyebrow is a chastisement.

'Not anymore.'

'You don't just click your fingers and make your feelings disappear.'

'You do when you could lose everything over it. When you almost ruined your finals, your summer and nearly killed a carload of friends.'

'It was an accident.'

'Yeah because I reacted to my friend asking if I loved Sandy rather than the road.'

Paul doesn't look surprised and you realise he and Chelsea have probably discussed the pair of you. 'So what are you gonna do about it all?'

'I don't know. Leave I guess, as soon as possible.'

'Running away,' Paul shakes his head, smiling ruefully, 'doesn't solve anything you know.'

'Sometimes it does. Sandy and I both left for Berkeley. That wasn't that far removed from running away.'

He ignores your twisted logic. 'Would you say goodbye?'

'To who?'

'You know.'

You don't answer.

'Please don't do that. I know this isn't any of my business but…Sandy couldn't handle being left again. His dad…Rebecca…'

'We're not together any more, what does it matter? Plus he let me go.'

'You taking off isn't the same thing. And even though you're broken up he'd probably follow you.'

'Not if I went to Newport.'

'You might be surprised. He cared about you, a lot.'

'If he would follow me if I left how come he can't seem to find my apartment any more? If he cares so damn much why are things so fucked up?'

'That's love I guess.'

'Well it sucks.' You realise what you've said and try to cover it. 'I mean, well…you know.'

'Please just say you'll talk to him.'

'Paul…it's not that easy.'

'Yes it is. It's that easy. You're miserable and the only person more miserable in the whole of Berkeley is Sandy. I like having my mate back but not if he's the way he is right now. He was happy with you and vice versa I suspect.'

'He should be the one saying this,' you burst out.

'Well, give him the chance and I think he will.'

'I think Sandy's said enough. He made it perfectly clear he hadn't given our future a moment's thought and didn't want to.'

'Maybe it was the wrong time.'

'Maybe there won't ever be a time.'

'Kirsten…'

'Look Paul, Sandy and I, we're over. I know you have all these cute plans for double dates but it's not gonna happen. I'm sorry.'

Paul looks as though he's about to argue but decides against it. You sigh with relief as he gives you a disappointed look and turns away. It should be illegal for lawyers-in-training to unleash their powers of persuasion on vulnerable girls with broken hearts.

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I love all you reviewers! Keep at it

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	5. Chapter 5

To TJ or not to TJ

**Summary: **Sandy and Kirsten in college. There's a TJ trip but they've just broken up and don't feel like going, what happens if their friends persuade them…

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the OC I'd have a yacht with a swimming pool on by now.

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OK I'm being bloody generous so leave me a review lol!

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Chapter Five

It takes an hour on the same straight road to find a gas station with a mechanic. You promise to meet the rest of the group in TJ once the car's fixed and they carry on, leaving you and Chelsea with a sweaty trip back up the road in a tow truck.

'So why did you elect to stay behind?' she asks. You sigh, realising this is gonna be one long hour.

'Keep Paul company,' is your nonchalant answer.

'Mmmhmm. Nothing to do with Kirsten.'

'Look, I know you're mad with me, think I should leave her alone but…'

'I don't think that.'

'You don't?'

'No. Seems to me like the pair of you need to talk.'

'Uh…no. Probably learning to get along without having to avoid each other will be enough.'

'And is that what you want?'

'What choice do I have?'

'More than that one.'

'To you maybe. You're on her side.'

'Not really…not until I hear both sides of the story.'

'Not interested in telling it.'

'You don't even want a chance to put this right?'

'Not when you're not being met halfway.'

'You know, I thought you were more of a man than that Sandy Cohen.'

'Sorry to disappoint you too,' you say crossly, hoping she'll shut up.

'Can't you just tell me what happened?' No such luck.

'No.'

'Please?'

You narrow your eyes but relent slightly. 'She wanted to make plans for the summer, I overreacted. End of story.'

'I know it's not.'

'You do? I mean…what?'

'It's not because that's the bit Kirsten tells.'

'She just…a lot of things were said.'

'Sandy!'

'Seriously, that's all there is to it.'

'And you listened to everything she said when she was angry?'

'Well no…I was saying things back.'

'The pair of you are so immature.'

'Yeah, well it's easier this way.'

'Really?'

Lying is getting increasingly hard. 'Sort of.'

'By easier you mean…let me see, lonelier and more miserable?'

'I'm fine.'

'Humph.'

'I'm fine being miserable.'

'Well Kirsten isn't. You owe it to her and to yourself to at least talk.'

'Not that simple.'

'That's not the point. You're sorry right?'

'Well…yes.'

'And she regrets what happened. She really is sorry.'

'I don't need apologies and certainly not second hand.'

'Well you haven't let her do it herself.'

'She hasn't tried.'

'Fine The pair of you can be miserable and when you both die cold and alone I will feel justified in saying 'I told you so'.'

'You are so melodramatic.'

Chelsea doesn't answer, turning to the rather amused driver and pointing out the stranded car up ahead. Paul and Kirsten are still sat beside it when you pull up; the former fanning himself with one hand and waving with the other, the latter still looking decidedly pale. The next half hour is spent manoeuvring the car onto the truck, the mechanic having agreed with the previous diagnosis of broken axle. He says he'll have to have it in the garage overnight and offers to drop the four of you at the nearby motel.

Much to your and Kirsten's displeasure, Paul and Chelsea organise it so the pair of you are squashed into the back seat of the cab. They obviously expect you to talk so you both sit in stony silence for the entire ride. If you do every get round to talking, and sitting close enough to smell her shampoo is making your resolve weaken, you'll do it far away from the eavesdropping ears and prying eyes of your respective best friends.

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You can't believe what your so called friend has just done. Her and her stupid, scheming boyfriend. You and Sandy had hung back as the other couple had headed into the motel, wanting to keep your distance from the intermittent ass-grabbing, making-out and general teasing that had ensued. That self-preservation technique had been a mistake, a big mistake. The manipulative pair have booked two rooms and disappeared, leaving the key on the desk and the receptionist with strict instructions not to be swayed on the room situation. You wonder how much they paid her. Several minutes of fruitless argument with the receptionist later, you both finally heed her, undoubtedly false, protestations that the motel is full, take the key and head outside to find the damn room. Looks like you and Sandy are sharing a room whether you like it or not.

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Hope you're enjoying it!

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	6. Chapter 6

To TJ or not to TJ

**Summary: **Sandy and Kirsten in college. There's a TJ trip but they've just broken up and don't feel like going, what happens if their friends persuade them…

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the OC I'd have a yacht with a swimming pool on by now.

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Em moaned that I left it on a cliffhanger so I've updated quickly lol!

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Chapter Six

You're not quite sure how the icy silence morphed into bickering, you just know it has. You offer to carry Kirsten's bag, immediately regretting it as she snaps 'I can manage.' When you fumble with the lock she sighs impatiently and taps her foot, smiling smugly at your exasperation. Inside you both stop short at the sigh of the double bed and lack of alternative sleeping space, not even a couch. Muttering, storms into the bathroom and you hear a revolted exclamation before she slams the door. It obviously isn't particularly solid or thick because it wobbles worryingly and she reacts crossly to you wandering around the room and making sarcastic comments. Soon you're arguing through the door. You almost feel as though you've missed this. Almost.

You hear another muffled shriek followed by renewed grumblings about the state of the bathroom.

'This is so totally disgusting. I can't believe we're here Sandy.'

You're glad you never broached the idea of your potential summer accommodation. Sometimes Kirsten seems so normal and other times you know there is no way she would ever live in a mail truck.

'Sandy?' Are you even listening to me? What do you have to say for yourself?'

'What do you want me to say? It's not my fault we're here.'

'Oh really.'

'I'm not the one who crashed the car.'

'Because of you.'

'What?'

Kirsten doesn't answer; instead you're greeted by the sound of the shower. When she emerges, you're unprepared for the sight. Her legs are long and tanned below the too-short towel, hair wet, plastered dark gold against her head and dripping diamonds down her smooth back.

'Oh…um…I'll uh, let you get changed,' you stutter, trying to stop yourself checking out your ex-girlfriend's body as you hurry out of the door, missing the awkwardly amused smile she gives you.

Several minutes later you realise you neglected to take the key with you so the only way you can get back in is if Kirsten lets you. And that seems highly unlikely. After contemplating knocking and deciding against being rejected or ignored, you sit down on the kerb outside your room. You figure you may as well wait and see if Kirsten comes looking. Her voice startles you when she does.

'Oh so you're sulking out here now?'

You don't bother to turn round so she marches into the parking bay in front of the sidewalk and stands, hands on hips, surveying you.

'Well?'

'What?'

'There's a spider.'

'Oh so that's why you came out.'

'Partly.'

'It's not my problem.' You lean back and light up just to piss her off.

'So you're not gonna go get it?'

'You're a big girl Kirsten,' you declare through a puff of smoke, 'I think you can handle it.'

'What is wrong with you?'

'Nothing. You're the one who's been in a horrible mood since we got here.'

'Hello? Have you even seen this place? We're in skank central.'

'It's not that bad.'

'Not that bad? I counted four different types of mould in that sorry excuse for a bathroom. Plus an infestation of ants. There's no AC, the bed smells like beer and there;'s a giant spider in the middle of the floor,' she whines, voice rising in pitch with each complaint.

'You're acting like a spoilt brat.'

'I just don't like spiders.'

'Uhu.'

'Sandy!'

'I'm not gonna take it back.'

'I always knew you help my family against me, where I come from.'

'You know I don't. How could I with mine the way they are, me from the Bronx?'

'Well take it back.'

'No because it's true. This isn't anything to do with your family or Newport or the damn spider. It's about the way you're acting.'

'You can't talk to me like that any more,' she declares, tears at the corner of her eyes betraying the vicious tone. She turns sharply on her heel and back into the room, banging the door shut behind her. You're locked out again.

You hear renewed mutterings, several thumps and the repeated slap of a shoe against the floor; sounds like she decided to deal with the unwanted arachnid herself. The next thing is the distinctive sound of a sob. It is immediately silenced when you call her name and so you go back to smoking and watching the empty road. You don't say anything when she reappears, quietly opening the door and sitting tentatively beside you.

'I'm sorry,' she says at last.

'Spider gone?' Reflexively you stub out the cigarette knowing she hates them.

'I didn't want to kill it but I had to. Sandy are you listening to me? I'm sorry.'

'I get it. Apology accepted and whatever. I'm still not taking it back.'

'No it's okay. You're right.'

'You're welcome.'

'I'm not…like that all the time though am I? I mean…sometimes I'm not that bad…right?'

'Most of the time…'

'Sandy! I can't help it.'

'Let me finish! Most of the time you're fine, just sometimes you act all…Newport.'

'And what's that supposed to mean?'

You ignore it, not wanting another argument on an empty stomach. 'Hungry?'

'Sort of.'

'Well we have the culinary delights of the vending machine, in other words ding-dongs or cheese-sticks.'

'Ew!'

'And there you go again.'

'What?'

'Acting all superior.'

'I'm not. I'm simply registering my delight.'

'What do you want?'

'Why are you doing this?'

'Huh?'

'Saying things to rile me and then backing off.'

'I'm not doing anything other than trying to get a snack.'

'Oh yeah.'

'Yeah. Now, ding-dongs or cheese-sticks?'

'You know you are.'

'Ding-dongs?'

'Why won't you just admit it?'

'Cheese-sticks?'

'_Sandy_!'

'_Kirsten_! Ding-dongs or cheese-sticks?'

You both glare at each other for a moment until she exhales loudly in exasperation and turns away. 'Cheese-sticks,' she calls over her shoulder. 'I _hate_ ding-dongs.'

Cheese-sticks it is.

---

Why is the rum always gone? My reviewers drank it all. It was a gift.

---


	7. Chapter 7

To TJ or not to TJ

**Summary: **Sandy and Kirsten in college. There's a TJ trip but they've just broken up and don't feel like going, what happens if their friends persuade them…

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the OC I'd have a yacht with a swimming pool on by now.

---

Almost there. Hope you survived the wait!

---

Chapter Seven

There is a period of truce while you share a packet of cheese-sticks and then Sandy takes a shower. You wash and change once he's done and return to find him sat awkwardly on the bed. 'I can sleep on the floor if you're willing to lend me a pillow.'

You bite your lip, 'It's okay. We can manage this. Lots of friends crash together.'

'And friends is what we're aiming for right?'

'Y-yeah,' you answer slowly. 'Is it…does this, feel weird to you?'

He nods. 'Let's go to bed. You could probably do with a good sleep after today.'

It's your turn to nod mutely, the weird feeling intensifying as he climbs into the bed you're about to share, as friends. You follow suit, barely suppressing a shudder at the musty sheets and praying you won't catch anything.

'Just get in,' Sandy mutters with his eyes closed. You wonder how he knows you're hesitating.

'Can't you just lay off for ten seconds?'

There is no response and you fling the rest of the bedclothes back angrily. 'Make a move and I rip out your jugular,' you threaten.

'Oh, pillow talk,' is Sandy's sarcastic remark as you lie down with a dramatic 'humph'! The vague camaraderie that had made a tentative beginning earlier has dissolved. Maybe trying to be friends is just as hard. The bed suddenly seems a lot smaller than it looked before you both got in it. You stay right on the far side of the mattress and Sandy does the same. He doesn't comment when you haul more of the covers towards you. You sneak a sideways glance to find him apparently sleeping peacefully already, or at least pretending to. Being in a bed with him again, without touching, without being pressed up as close against him as possible, without indulging in something other than sleeping, feels so foreign. You thump your pillow, tugging it first one way and then the other, angry with Sandy for making you want to cry again.

---

Kirsten tosses and turns violently for an hour or so before finally settling down with a discontented sigh. You wait for her breathing to even out. Since you broke up you've had trouble sleeping. For most of the past six months you've waited for your girlfriend's breathing to slow and deepen before being lulled to sleep by the soft rhythm. Now you have the chance to fall asleep to it again but you can't because she isn't drifting off. As you like there you can feel yourself becoming tense, cross with Kirsten for denying you the pleasure. It's completely irrational, you know that, but you can't help it. Of course, it was so much easier to feel her dropping off when she was lying against you, chests rising and falling together. When you think of all these things you wonder why you freaked out so much last week. You never meant to lose her over it; you were scared that's all. And truth be told, you want to be the one to raise the subject with your plan complete and undeniable. You should have known life didn't work like that. And so the complete opposite of what you wanted happened.

It brings back the old fear that it always is your fault, people can't help leaving you; you drive them away. At that point you stop yourself or you'll be up all night and another step closer to needing therapy. Rolling over to get away from the thoughts chasing their tails around your head, you find yourself face to face with Kirsten. Kirsten with her eyes closed, closer than you've been for what feels like a hell of a long time when in reality it's only a couple of days. Kirsten, the same as ever but strangely different, seemingly more beautiful, more desirable, even more unobtainable. As your eyes trace the features you know so well; the button nose, the soft lips and high cheekbones, you wonder how, after fighting so hard to get to know her and fighting to be together, you managed to ruin it all so quickly, to let her go the way you did.

All of a sudden you realise you're no longer staring at Kirsten's eyelids but rather the eyes beneath them. You wonder how long they've been open, whether she's mad at you for watching her and if she was watching you. If she was, what was she thinking?

Her eyes are dark and questioning in the room's twilight. You feel you should look away but can't bring yourself to break the connection between you. She doesn't move either; despite the fact your noses are mere inches apart.

'What are you thinking?' she asks in a voice like velvet and you know you can't lie.

'You…us.'

She blinks hastily before her eyelids flutter closed completely. You swallow the lump in your own throat as her jaw visibly tightens. It's hard to comprehend how something that was once so good now causes that kind of reaction.

'I'm sorry,' you murmur, the words rumbling up from your chest to your mouth. She sighs gently, cool breath whispering past you in the humid atmosphere. Her eyes open slowly and now you can see they are bright and glassy with tears. She attempts a smile but the movement causes a tear to spill over and track slowly down her face. Your arm lifts, almost involuntarily to brush them away, fingers lingering languidly against her cheek.

'Me too,' she whispers and then rolls over away from you. You're left slightly comforted, her tears damp upon your fingertips.

---

Still here?

---


	8. Chapter 8

To TJ or not to TJ

**Summary: **Sandy and Kirsten in college. There's a TJ trip but they've just broken up and don't feel like going, what happens if their friends persuade them…

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the OC I'd have a yacht with a swimming pool on by now.

---

Hope you've enjoyed this. I've had a great time writing it. Thanks for your amazing reviewing response. I'd write anyway but it really does make it special.

---

Chapter Eight

You wake up slowly, confused. Your back is pressed up against something, or someone, judging by the arm draped across you. It's male and familiar but it takes a moment for your sleep soaked brain to recall yesterday.

It's Sandy. God. You should have known better than to share a bed with him; even broken up you can't stop yourselves becoming tangled together in your sleep. You remember endless mornings waking like this, Sandy curled protectively around you. Or sometimes you'd be pressed up against his chest with your own, his arms round you, yours around him, hearts beating next to each other.

Focussing on the hairs on his arm as you fight more tears, you idly wonder if he's awake. But surely if he was you wouldn't still be cuddled up as close as this. That said, you are awake and haven't moved the offending arm away. At that realisation you slide gingerly out of bed, glancing at Sandy as you stand up. His eyes flutter closed a fraction too late and you look away, hurrying into the bathroom to prevent any discussion. Fleeing the awkwardness between you because neither of you are over the other yet.

Sandy is up and dressed when you emerge from the bathroom.

'Breakfast?' he asks, ducking his head so as to avoid your eyes.

You nod. Sure, why not continue this uncomfortable charade as long as possible?

---

All of a sudden you realise how weird this is; Kirsten sat opposite you in the diner booth, sharing breakfast like you're still together. Matching coffees being lifted in sync, Kirsten eating the crusts of your toast (there was a displeasing lack of bagels), the pair of you disappearing behind respective sections of the newspaper having fought over _Arts and Leisure_. You hate to admit it but this feels so right. Waking up with her again was such an unexpected pleasure and now, sat here like this you feel you could do this every morning for the rest of your life. (As long as there were bagels.) If you think about it, there is a kind of old-married-couple feel to the situation.

You're startled from your reverie by a sniffle from behind _Arts and Leisure_. Putting down the crossword you reach across the table and tilt Kirsten's paper towards you so you can see her face. It's flushed and two shiny tear trails are evident down her cheeks. That's all you see before you're left with the newspaper in your hand and an empty booth in front of you. You don't hesitate in getting up yourself, flinging several dollar bills amidst the remains of the abandoned breakfast and following your fleeing ex.

---

Outside, several yards along the street you realise you don't have the key to the motel room. There is nowhere else to go; beside the motorway is the motel, the diner, a shop of some description and the garage. So you sit down on the dust sidewalk where it peters out into nothing. That's where Sandy finds you two minutes later. In the midst of your tears you're aware of the speed with which he followed you. But then of course, Sandy is ever the gentleman. He wouldn't let anyone wander off in a strange place alone. He sits down on the kerb beside you, one arm slipping round your shoulders and making it even harder to breathe. It's reflexive to lean into the comfort, bury your head into his shoulder and let the tears come. Sandy doesn't say anything as you slowly dampen his shirt and it hits you how awkward this is too. You're too close.

Pulling away, you attempt to stumble to your feet but Sandy follows you. He catches your hand as you turn away, forcing you to face him, trapped.

'I can't…do this,' you choke out. 'I can't…be like this…not like this, not with you, not any more. It's too hard.'

'You mean you don't want to be friends?'

'I don't think we can be. Last night…this morning…just now…'

'Didn't feel like being friends?'

You nod.

'But…'

'We tried Sandy, didn't we?'

'Yeah, but…'

'And we failed. I'm sorry I pressured you about the summer but I just wanted to see where I stood. It seemed like I was taking things more seriously than you and I was right.'

'That's not true.'

'I'm not doing this Sandy. We're already broken up, we don't need to argue.'

'We're not. You're just telling me how you feel. Something you failed to do at the time.'

'I tried, you didn't want to listen.'

'I'm sorry. I was stressed.'

'And I wasn't? Bang in the middle of my finals?'

'Don't act like I timed it that way, I had exams too; if I don't pass I don't get into my second year of law.'

'Well I'm sorry for caring about us.'

'I care…cared.'

'Didn't feel like it. You didn't even want to talk about what was gonna happen after school was over for me.'

'I did, I just wasn't ready to.'

'And what do you mean by that?'

'It doesn't matter now.'

'Sandy, just tell me.'

'I uh…applied for an internship at the P.D.'s office, so I'd be able to stay here for the summer, with you, I hadn't heard back from them at the time…'

'And now?'

'I start first week of break.'

'Oh.'

'I didn't want to tell you in case it fell through and I needed to figure out some other way to keep us together.'

'You wanted to keep us together.'

'Obviously. And well…I wasn't about to follow you to Newport unless I had to.'

'I didn't want to go back anyway…I um, got a job at one of the galleries in Sorselido. Before we…you know.'

'You never said.'

'I never got the chance.'

'You didn't back out did you? You love that place.'

'Not yet.'

'Looks like we're both gonna be in Berkeley for the summer.'

'Well…'

'You can't cancel. That job is the first step to owning your own gallery.'

'But…'

'Kirsten, please.'

'I'll think about it.'

'What is there to think about?'

'Well…stuff.'

'Like?'

'What to tell my dad, where to live…'

'That's why you wanted to talk about it!'

'Sandy! It wasn't like that. I wanted to know if it was worth me staying, worth looking for a place.'

'But you thought we were ready to live together.'

'Well, maybe. Obviously I was wrong.'

'I overreacted.'

'You can say that again.'

'As did you.'

'Maybe.'

'You know you did.'

'OK, I did, by a long way but…what difference does it make now?'

'Well…if we're gonna both be in Berkeley…'

'Sandy…'

'Just hear me out. I'm sorry and you're sorry, it was a bad time for both of us but we uh…we seem to have unfinished business so surely we owe it to ourselves to…complete it?'

'I don't know.'

'What don't you know? If we're both gonna be around this summer why not? Why avoid each other?'

'It's just…'

'I miss you.'

'I miss you too but I don't want to break up again.'

'We can cross that bridge if and when we come to it.'

You bite your lip; you can't deny that this is what you want. That you would break up all over again for the chance of more time with him. 'Um…can we uh…take it slow?'

'Apart from the whole living together thing.'

'Sandy, I can't…I didn't mean…'

'I insist. Why pay two rents when we'll never be in both? Although…I only have my digs till the end of the semester too so we'll have to be looking for somewhere on a budget, should be fun.'

'I don't mind where we live.'

'You might regret saying that.'

'Well remind me that I did.'

'Ok. Can I kiss you now?'

'I guess so.'

---

Ten minutes of kissing on the pavement later, you pull away gently and lead her away by the hand still clasped in yours. She smiles mischievously as you fumble with the key to your room again, the hand snaking round your waist from behind and reaching towards your crotch makes it difficult to concentrate. You manhandle her through the door when it's finally open and she laughs wildly as you toss her onto the unmade bed. Your clothes last about two minutes beneath her deft fingers and hers soon follow to the floor. Another ten minutes and both of you are sated and sweaty, a tangled, breathless mass in the bedclothes.

'That's slow huh?' Kirsten asks. You can feel her lips curve into a smile against your chest.

'Well I did take your clothes off this time,' you point out and she laughs before kissing her way back up to your mouth. Immediately you feel the familiar stirrings and it hits you how much this girl gets to you, how much you missed her, how much you…well, maybe…love her?

Yeah. You do. For some reason the idea no longer scares you.

Neither of you make it to Mexico that weekend.

---

And there you have it. Hope that was a good balance of cuteness and angst for the summer! I wanted it to be light but I can't resist some angst! Please review.

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